The Oracle
by Lucy Morningstar
Summary: The smell of war is imminent, and Sesshoumaru is tasked by his mother to find out what stands in the future of their lands. The answers he seek however, depend on the time-travelling Kagome. Rated M for violence and future lemons.


[17/2/14

A/N: I had previously posted the story here, but it is now under revision. While the plot is still the same, I am tweaking—nah—replacing nearly all of the scenes, as I believe it makes the story less complicated. Thank goodness, I'm _still _at Chapter Three.

Oh there is one more thing to note. In this story Kagome is able to switch between worlds as per normal after being married, even though her permanent residence is in Sengoku Jidai.

**WARNING: For this first chapter, there will be brief suggestions of rape. Nothing extreme, though!**]

Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and its respective owners. Sadly. =(

**Chapter One**

That year, Kagome was 21 and married and by right, would have acquired a new surname, _if _Inuyasha had been born with one. In the village, she still lived as a _miko_—it was to her, a vocation more than a lifestyle as most would assume it to be—and when she wasn't busy holding cleansing rituals for long-abandoned houses or blessing newborn babies, she was elbows deep in something else that made her _miko_ job look like a student's part-time job stint.

Kagome had now, as strange as it sounded, become a village entrepreneur, touting her 21st-century household sundry items for a humongous profit. Her "magical potions and elixirs", as the village women liked to dub them—upon introduction and demonstration—had proved to be an overnight sensation. People were coming to her house in throngs to get their hands on them. Every month, Kagome would return to her world to do some mass grocery shopping, as upon her customers' orders. The items she sold were basic everyday needs that ranged from shampoo to Kit Kat bars, but to the villagers, they were gifts from heaven; the savior of life.

Her customers were multiplying at such a rapid speed, that Kagome had to employ an assistant, who was to help her with the orders and at required situations, take the role of a creditor.

You would be wondering, that such an ingenious, lucrative business would have made her rich, especially when she exchanged the ancient currency for actual cash—she had a friend back in Tokyo who specialized in such exchanges—but her number one priority had always been to save up for her brother's college and university expenses, and more so especially, when her grandpa had recently contracted pneumonia.

One spring morning, Inuyasha was over at the Katsuhiros, and while the wife was busy poring over a customized catalogue, Junpei her husband joined Inuyasha at the threshold for a discreet chat.

"Hey, Inuyasha," the man said, looking over his shoulder at his wife as he did so, "So, how does it feel to work with one's wife, huh?"

Inuyasha folded his arms tightly, his eyebrows furrowing. Junpei had a permanent snigger on his face and his mouth bore a set of far-spaced yellowing teeth. Inuyasha did not like him one bit.

"Your meaning? What's so bad about working with my wife?"

Junpei chuckled as if it was so obvious.

"I mean, how do I say this? Isn't feeding one's family supposed to be the husband's job?"

He jabbed Inuyasha's chest with a crooked fingernail. "Today she lords you over the money, and tomorrow she lords you over the futon."

Inuyasha's fist collected at his side and he would have given Junpei a good blow at his temple, if Kagome's words had not sprung back to his mind.

_Lose your customers and lose your fortunes. The customer is always right._

Right my ass.

At that moment the wife appeared, replacing Junpei who quickly swiped the _noren_ curtain over his head and retreated back into the house.

"Forgive the delay, Inuyasha," she said and gave a flimsy smile, accompanied with a series of embarrassed, apologetic bows. She pointed to a picture on the catalogue. "This month, I don't wish to spend so much. Would you tell Kagome-sama that I would like the clothes soap—the big one—and five boxes of Pocky? Rinko and Seita are absolutely crazy about Pocky. I tell them too many sweets would spoil their teeth and end up like their father's, but I guess there is no need to worry much now with Systema toothpaste, isn't that right?"

That night, Inuyasha joined Kagome to sleep later than usual, and found her staring at the rafters with a pinched look on her face.

"You know what time it is?" he was asking her.

Kagome smiled at him and rolled over, propping herself on her elbows.

"You know darling, I just had this brainwave I _must_ share with you."

Inuyasha laid on the futon, smirking as he crossed his arms underneath his head.

"Well, what is it?"

"I'm thinking, with my savings, I should buy a storehouse somewhere in this village. You know, so I can store my more popular, fast-selling goods. That way, I won't have to make so many trips to and fro…"

Inuyasha scratched the side of his neck as he considered it. Her ideas always sounded so strange and far-fetched, making him wonder where the hell she got them from. Did the people from her world all think like that?

"It's up to you, really."

"Oh! You think it's a splendid idea too, don't you?"

Kagome laid back, smiling, her hands wringing in excitement. Inuyasha thought she looked especially pretty that night; the way the golden lamp-light cut softly onto her face in the dark, illuminating the dainty slope of her nose and smooth jaw. He crept slowly beside her, and after observing her for a while, leaned in to kiss at the side of her lips.

In response Kagome turned to her side in bashful aversion, hiding her face from her husband. A little smile played on Inuyasha's lips as he tugged softly on her unyielding shoulder. Swiping her hair aside, he nuzzled against her skin below her ear, his nose travelling further down the curve of her warm neck at a languid speed. No need to rush now. He had all the time in the world.

He pulled aside the hem of her robe and kissed her bare shoulder, then gave a playful nip. Kagome squirmed, pulling back her robe. Her body edged away from him.

A frown creased over Inuyasha's forehead as he stared at her back. Suddenly Junpei's words flashed across his mind, snigger and all.

"_Today she lords you over the money, and tomorrow she lords you over the…"_

Something crawled up from his chest to his throat. Something thick and stifling.

"Since when have you learnt to try and avoid me?" Inuyasha asked, his voice rising.

He heard her voice quake in her throat. "I'm not avoiding you, I'm just… You know…"

"What? I don't know. You tell me."

"I'm scared."

His mouth gaped for a while. Then Inuyasha sighed aloud and dropped on his back.

"So you're going to just avoid it all your life? It's that what you're saying? It's been three goddamned years, Kagome."

"We've been through this conversation a million times. I thought you said it wouldn't matter to you."

"Well, sometimes it does. At the end of the day, I'm still a man."

Kagome kept quiet for some time. Then she said, "Maybe you should find someone else."

Suddenly her back was pushed onto the futon, and Inuyasha's face was hovering above hers, his face dark and his body heavy. A lash of fear paralyzed her, as she stared at his eyes that were burning with something she could not comprehend.

"What kind of person do you think I am?" he growled. "You think I'm just going to leave you for some petty excuse?"

A new kind of anger filled Kagome. Her fingers twitched and she grasped his arm.

"I nearly _killed_ you the last time. I just don't want to hurt you."

"We'll try it again," Inuyasha said, his voice softer now. "We'll do it until it gets right."

Kagome turned her face away and bit her lower lip. "Not at your expense. You'll just end up losing control and…"

Inuyasha shook her by her shoulders and her teeth chattered.

"I won't give up, Kagome! You know how I've been training myself in the mountains! I _will_ brace through this!"

His fists yanked her robe apart. Kagome heard the sound of shredding cloth, sharp and crisp in the night air, and panic began to grip her again.

"For heaven's sake, Inuyasha, _what are you doing_?!"

"We'll do it until it gets right!"

"_Are you forcing me?!_"

Everything happened in a blur, like reflections on running water.

Suddenly Inuyasha had freed himself off his pants, his hand scorching hot at her pelvis. Kagome cried out, pushing him in vain. The familiar sensation rose in her stomach—that hot, sickly feeling as it flourished throughout her body to the tips of her toes. It was happening now. She shut her eyes in dread.

There was a spike in her aura, as her body twisted around violently. Her eyes rolled up so high, Inuyasha could only see the whites. Then it came, so sudden and more powerful than he remembered, it almost knocked him out.

A huge burst of energy blasted from Kagome's body, blue and fiery-hot. It blinded him, and his mind felt like it had smashed to smithereens. Something screamed in his skull, calling out to his basest instincts—and the demon in his blood roared, demanding release to fight and defend itself from this light of purification...

"_over the futon…"_

Inuyasha's eyes snapped open, bestial; the colour of blood. Kagome screamed, clawing at the monstrous vision above her, and the light exploded in its utmost intensity, drowning out the sight of Inuyasha and everything else.

The last thing she heard was a blood-curdling wail.

That same year, in the same spring day, a huge stone castle sat atop a plateau that overlooked the western lands, foreboding and solemn, its red-and-white emblem flags stirring in the breeze. Somewhere in one of the many rooms in that castle, a servant, with pointed ears and vaguely canine features, was kneeling at the verandah. His name was Oka, and Oka was a picture of subservience—his head hung low and eyes trained to the wooden floor, as his arms extended out a tray.

At the edge of the verandah, sat Oka's master and lord of the western lands, who sat watching the _sakura_ trees in the garden weeping their bright, tiny petals in the breeze.

"Milord," whispered Oka. "As you requested."

Sesshoumaru turned. He had a lazy look on his face, like he had been daydreaming. He looked at Oka, then at the tray, of which three pieces of hair pins were laid carefully side by side on a layer of red silk. They were made of gold, each piece adorning a different pattern of coloured jewels, and they caught the gleam and sparkle of the sunlight.

Sesshoumaru took his time to study each hair pin, not bothering to touch and inspect them. He found the middle one more pleasing than the other two, but then again, there had been whispers at the court that the lord wielded a bad taste when it came to aesthetics.

It wouldn't matter, because his word was law.

The doors behind the verandah slid open, prompting him to look up. It was his mother, alone and arriving without a due announcement. She loomed tall and formidable at the door, her eyes sweeping at him, then to the tray Oka was holding.

"What's this?" she asked, staring at the hair pins with distaste, knowing what they were really for. No one said anything.

"Leave us, Oka," she then ordered, and Oka immediately obeyed, shutting the doors behind him.

Sesshoumaru returned to face the garden, the lazy look on his face disappeared. The wind chime that hung from the eaves started tinkling.

"I was unaware you had taken a sudden interest to wearing hairpins," his mother said.

"State your business, Mother," Sesshoumaru said.

The wooden floor thudded under her footsteps as she paced around in silence, presumably to gather her words. The sleeves of her _kimono_ rustled, thick and heavy and then she spoke.

"Our spies have returned last night, and every word they proclaim is much more the same. A man from the province of Owari is gathering troops for a new uprising. There is a great cloud of confusion and fear among the human warlords."

Sesshoumaru took a while to register her words. "And our demonkind?" he asked.

"Our messenger has yet to return from the north. We sent him two days ago."

An inscrutable flicker passed over his eyes, or perhaps it was the play of sunlight. Sesshoumaru looked away, as he began to contemplate the situation.

"What do we know of this man from Owari?"

His mother paused, and her voice dropped to a low whisper. "There is talk he has _bakemono_ blood in him."

_Bakemono_. The monsters, or _youkai_ in another word. _Their_ kind. But something told him the man from Owari could not be wholly demon, for if he was, he would have sent a message to them.

"I don't have a good hunch about this man. Sesshoumaru, you must seek Hijikamon the master _tengu_ who lives in Mount Takao. He shall clear the fog of doubt in our minds."

Sesshoumaru frowned at his mother over his shoulder. He was almost glaring at her, his lips slightly apart in disbelief. Hijikamon was an old bird, revered in the demon circle for his prodigious powers, art of combat and wisdom. A devout ascetic who preferred being holed up somewhere in the mountains—getting a hold on Hijikamon would be a problematic task, even for him. It didn't help that the _tengu_ was extremely unapproachable.

"Mother," Sesshoumaru protested. His voice had caught rigid in his throat.

"This isn't your mother talking," she snapped, then began to pace to and fro again. "I'm ordering you as the Dowager Lady of the Western Lands. Seek out Hijikamon's counsel, and for once, Sesshoumaru, do not be rude. Treat him like the god he is."

"Any other proxies you can suggest?" he then asked, looking away.

His mother's sleeves swished again. A breeze came, whispering into the verandah, carrying with it the light, sweet scent of _sakura_. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, allowing its feathery tendrils to trace his face and neck.

"Well, there is that human _miko_ who fought Naraku alongside with you five years ago."

Sesshoumaru slipped off the edge of the verandah this time, his shoes crushing against gravel. He whirled around, facing his mother, and almost expected a smile from her but there was none; her face was severe and to be honest, it unsettled him. There had been no human priestess that fought alongside with him. In fact there was no one at all.

"If you're referring to the _gaijin_…"

"_Gaijin_ or not, she's your little sister-in-law, no matter how much you hate it." There was a subtle, sadistic lilt to her voice and Sesshoumaru's jaw tightened. "Rumours say she hails from the future, five hundred years from now. Is that true?"

"I would know nothing of her."

"If they are, then she should know what lies ahead of us. It should have been written in the history texts of her future world."

"Mother," said Sesshoumaru again. He gazed into her eyes; there was a twinkle in them—bloodlust? merriment as his discomfort? or simply the sunlight?—and when he spoke, his voice was strong, unwavering and resolute.

"I will find Hijikamon, and he will reveal what he needs to."

A smile crept to his mother's red lips, and the twinkle in her eyes seemed to be livelier than ever. The wind-chime chinked softly again, as if offering a reminder.

She slid open the doors and exited, the long train of her robe trailing behind her feet. Sesshoumaru watched her as her hurried voice echoed into his ears from the distance.

"Hijikamon is an extremely passive demon—but whatever you do, _do not_ aggravate him."

Sesshoumaru muttered a curse. That strange human lass? He never thought of her as a _miko_, even though the others had found the title becoming for her. To him, all along, she had been a fault in the pathway of time, a foreigner who had crashed onto their world. The word "_gaijin_" seemed to fit her more than anything, for that was what she was, and nothing more.

An outlander.

Behind the doors at the side was Oka, discreetly kneeling with the tray still on his lap. Sesshoumaru glared at him, then sighed.

"The middle one," he said.

_End of Chapter One_

Thank you for reading and don't forget to review! ^^


End file.
